Every tour group seemed to have one: an insufferable know-it-all. I travelled in Japan with a group of Americans, visiting one breathtaking temple after another. I tried to politely ignore Amy as much as I could, but she popped up everywhere, usually bragging about her latest exploits. Each evening found us in a lovely hotel

I’ve sung in choirs most of my life. While my voice is not particularly good, it is loud, a desirable quality in the usually small alto sections. Two years ago, I moved into a new apartment that faced west with warm afternoons and gorgeous sunsets. Outside, I enjoyed viewing a single mountain, a slice of

Family get-togethers can be an out-of-body experience. I know these folks so well, my sense of observation seems to range around the room like an inquisitive drone. Uncle Jeb’s loud voice means he’s drinking too much and we should be alert for belligerence. Aunt Jen’s low moan is the first sign of a sobbing fit

Every few months, I visit an old friend, Julia, who has a small townhouse that overlooks the second tee of a golf course outside Las Vegas. A large pond sits next to the tee. I enjoy watching the year-round flock of Canadian geese who grace the pond and graze on the lush grass in front

When oppressed people find humorous ways to express their desire for freedom, I rejoice.  Before elections in Hungary this year, in a public park, some people set up a metal barrel with a picture of their corrupt president, Viktor Orban. For a small fee, bystanders were given a baseball bat to strike at the image.

I used to hate waiting in traffic, muttering and moaning to myself. Now, I’ve come to love stop lights. How did this miracle occur? A few years ago, I wanted to find a more positive mindset on our frustratingly slow streets. Radio music or news often added to my stress. Around this time, I discovered

A few of my clothes contain precious personal stories. Seemingly ordinary, some old shirts and dresses – those not imbued with the special importance of celebration, ceremony or sports – can still raise mirth or nostalgia after many years. In elementary school, my underpants provided me with confidence, for each pair featured a day of

I enjoy most invitations – to lunches, parties, weddings. However, sometimes folks ask me to unusual gatherings, such as drumming circles (decline), meditation groups (yes), remove invasive fish species from streams (sorry, I avoid slime), hike 50 miles around a mountain (an ecstatic accept). The other day I received the strangest invitation of all: to

Trying to get along with people and follow social dictates – or not – has given me some funny memories. It’s hard to forget meeting Clive, my posh sister-in-law Elaine’s new boyfriend. She prepared us ahead of time by saying he was very spiritual, a trait she apparently admired. When he arrived in our home,

“We’re all nurse logs for each other” is a phrase I saw on a t-shirt recently in Seattle, Washington. Locals understood what this meant. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest in a family of campers and hikers. Nurse logs were common in these forests: fallen trees that, over time, welcomed seedlings that sprouted in,